


505

by amongthieves



Series: big trouble (losing control) [1]
Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: Holden knows exactly what Bill needs, M/M, Post Season 2, Season 2 spoilers, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 09:02:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20486303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amongthieves/pseuds/amongthieves
Summary: Bill thinks he's good at reading people, and Holden's been waiting for this for a long time.





	505

**Author's Note:**

> I succumbed to writing for these two. I told myself I wouldn't do it, but then their size difference and the looks Bill gives Holden - well, I'm hooked. If you want a playlist for these two, I made one on my spotify. Also, I should beta my shit, but I'm always too impatient between my completion and posting, so I apologize for that. Title is an Arctic Monkeys song that fits these two painfully well.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2E4yEDXsG4W1m2Zm82quxZ?si=qY8NJN5-RbaiLvDg2CpL4w

When Bill has finished his search of the house, he walks back outside and sits on his front doorsteps. Nothing but one suitcases of his things, only his clothes still hung up and investigation paperwork left.

Other than the couch of course.

He lights a cigarette, and inhales deeply, thinking about the places Nancy and Brian could have gone to. There’s no letter, no note, nothing to go off from.

Halfway through his cigarette, he grinds it out on the stairs and stands, walking straight back to the car.

-

Holden’s apartment is in crap shoot of an area; Bill can’t quite make out if his car is going to be safe or not. Regardless, he locks the car and makes sure nothing’s out in the open. A car goes by on the road, and Bill crosses, pressing Holden’s buzzer. The steps are still damp from the rain earlier.

After a few moments, Holden’s tinny voice comes through. “Hello?”

“Holden, it’s Bill. Can I come up?”

“Yeah - of course. I hope everything’s okay.”

The door buzzes and Bill pulls it open, slipping through.

He climbs five sets of stairs before he’s on Holden’s door step, knocking. 505. The door swings open quickly, and Holden’s standing in the doorway, eyes wide at actually seeing Bill.

Slightly out of breath, Bill speaks slow and quiet. “Nancy’s gone.” He doesn’t want to go fully into details; he had told Holden what was going on before, and he knows he doesn’t have to tell Holden anything twice.

“Bill— I— I’m so sorry.” Holden moves aside, leading Bill into his apartment. He shuts the door behind them. “Do you know where they went?”

“Not a clue. Nancy had mentioned a couple of places she wanted to move to last month, but- I don’t remember all of them. Don’t know which one she was most keen on. Maybe she’s not even at any of those places.”

Bill walks over to the window, and for whatever reason, he can’t find himself to sit down. Holden moves with him, staying in a safe proximity, and hovers around. “Can I… make some coffee? Make you a drink? Actually- I think I only have beer in the fridge—”

“A beer would be nice. Thanks, Holden.”

Holden walks over to the fridge, slightly embarrassed by its bare contents. He pulls out one of the beer bottles and walks over to bill, popping the cap off with a bottle opener as he holds it out. “Here, Bill.”

Bill takes it from his hands, their fingers brushing together.

“Do you need me to do anything?”

“I just need to think.”

“Okay.” Holden shuffles away, and Bill finds himself sitting on the couch, relaxing into the cushions. He tilts his head back, exhaling, already craving his second smoke.

Out of all places, he wonders why Holden’s felt the safest to go to. His neighbours had been nosy in the past couple of months, and no one at the office knew what was going on, other than Doctor Carr, and was she really someone he wanted to sit in silence with?

Actually, out of all people on the team to respect silence, Wendy probably would have been the best choice. He enjoys her company, she’s smarter than he ever initially thought her to be, but him and Holden with their time on the road… it felt like the right way to go.

Bill feels a deep, sinking fear coil up in his stomach, remembering how uptight Nancy had been the past couple of months. She was so aggressively friendly during the drop in visits, during the visits to the shrink she offered more information than necessary. He wanted to be there to support, he was trying so damn hard with coming back for weekends. For trying to make all the appointment times, to be there for Brian. Every day, Bill felt the pressure grow further, almost out of control.

Home felt like work, and work felt like an escape from that.

Perhaps that’s what Holden’s is. An escape. He takes a large chug of the beer, feeling it warm and bitter in his belly.

Holden moves around him, continuing whatever he had been doing before Bill came in. When he sees Holden move in front of him with a broom, sweeping the floor, he can’t help but smile. It takes his mind off Nancy, and he watches him, move through the room, collecting dust.

He’s wearing red flannel pyjamas, and a plain white tee-shirt.

Bill sits up, polishing off the rest of his beer.

“Do you do this every night?” Bill leans against the arm rest, and his eyes are on Holden as he turns around with the broom.

“No. Only when company comes over. Which… isn’t as often as I should do it.” Down at his feet, in a pile, there’s a noticeable collection of dust and hair.

Holden’s apartment is bare necessities furniture, only the TV, the couch, and a single table with two chairs occupy the space. There’s no clock, no pictures on the walls, no art, no sort of proof of living here except the dust at his feet. How can one man with Holden’s habits produce so much dust? It has Bill baffled.

“Do you want to go out? Go to the bar?” Holden shifts the broom into his other hand, eyes still on Bill.

“Holden, I said I just wanted to think.”

“That’s not going to make you feel any better.”  
  
“Well, thanks for your advice, doctor.”

Bill glares over at Holden, with the sun hitting him directly in the eye. He shields his face, looking to the window, seeing the sun setting behind the blinds.

“Thinking is probably the worst thing you could do right now. Does Wendy know—?”

“Yeah, Wendy knows. I told her first.”

He can faintly see the look of disappointment on Holden’s face, but it’s gone as fast as it had appeared.

“Bill, why’d you come here?”

“Holden, do I have to fucking say it again–”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m not an idiot, Bill.”

It’s a sudden unexpected toughness coming from Holden, and Bill feels his spine straighten. Getting a reprimand from Holden was something that made the target feel like an absolute moron, with second hand embarrassment clear on the faces of anyone who stood around to hear.

He’s seen a couple of verbal whippings directed towards Gregg, especially after it was found that he had sent the tape. It never ceases to amaze Bill when he watches Holden.

But to hear Holden incessantly following up on this question, Bill can feel his stomach sink.

It's not a question that he fully understands the answer to. If he's going to be frank, he was looking for comfort. He's seen it on Holden's face - just seconds away from asking Bill to crawl into his bed, to kiss him, to lean over the console in the car and into the driver's seat.

As if Bill couldn't read him. Holden's lack of personal space bled into his interactions with everyone, but Bill was always asking Holden to get back onto his own bed, and every single new trip, Holden would do the same damn thing again.

But perhaps that was a quirk of his. Something Bill miscalculated.

“I must have read it wrong— I’m sorry—” Bill begins to stand up, but Holden’s standing in front of him, gently pushing on his chest to sit back down. The sun’s at his back, and for the first time, Bill gets a good look at his face since he asked the question.

It’s soft, there's no anger, and his lips are slightly parted - and it drives Bill crazy. He can also see a playful curiosity lingering in his expression.

“Read what wrong, Bill?” Holden places the broom against the couch.

“Holden.”

“You what, read me wrong? You never get things wrong — I’m surprised to hear you admit it out loud.”

Holden’s hand is still on Bill's chest, and Bill looks down at the hand before glancing back up at Holden’s face. Before he can say anything else, Holden is climbing onto his lap, straddling him. He takes Bill’s hands, and guides them to the seat of his pants, and Bill is momentarily stunned.

A distraction. Safe. The broom clatters to the floor.

Holden’s hesitant when he leans down to kiss Bill, and Bill can see the stuttered movement of whether or not he should follow through with the kiss. Bill appeases him by leaning up, meeting his lips, and sliding his tongue in to meet Holden’s. There’s a soft whine above him, and Holden’s hands reach up to Bill’s shoulders, gripping at his shirt.

“What about Nancy?” He breathes, and Bill nips at his lip, scowling.

“You climb into my lap, Holden, and then ask about my wife?” Bill’s about to buck him off and leave, the thought creating a stronger feeling of guilt than earlier.

“Forget it. Forget I said anything. Bill, please.”

His tone surprises Bill, and he can’t help but squeeze Holden’s ass again through his pyjamas.

“What about you, then? What do you want?” Desperation isn’t something that Bill’s used to seeing on Holden, and he can feel him rutting himself into Bill’s lap, and there’s something incredibly pornographic about it. Bill’s hands are on Holden’s hips now, gripping, and he’s matching Holden’s movements, their cocks rubbing together through their pants.

“Bill—”

“Go on, say it.”

“Bill—”

Bill takes his hands off him, leans back into the couch, and it invites Holden to move forward, to press their chests together, and he kisses Bill on the mouth again. Bill stiffens, but Holden doesn’t notice, and he cups Bill’s face, fingers moving over the stubble.

“I need you to fuck me, Bill. I’ve—... I want this.” Holden’s voice is quiet, incredibly gentle, and Bill feels his heart drop through his stomach.

Hearing Holden’s voice request that, Bill feels a hard strain in the front of his slacks. “Yeah. Take your pants off.”

Holden slides off him, and his pajamas drop to the floor as he drops down to his knees, working on Bill’s slacks. When they’re off, and Bill's cock pops out of his briefs, Holden walks away, disappearing form the living room.

“Where do you think you're going?” Bill calls out after him, watching him disappear down a hallway with a cheeky smile. When he comes back, the sun has displaced itself, lighting the white wall with orange sunlight. He has a small bottle in his hands, and Bill notices that it’s lube, and that makes sense.

He’s never done this before with another man, and no one has ever made him as sure as Holden has.

Holden squirts a bit of the liquid onto his hand and he gives Bill two languid slick stokes, before he slides back into Bill’s lap. To Bill’s surprise, Holden rips open a condom, sliding it down on Bill’s dick.

Bill’s been doing nothing but missionary for the past 10 years. He feels like he’s not going to last for long.

While Holden leans back, giving Bill his space to look down and watch, Holden pulls off his t-shirt and drops it to the floor. Bill, moaning, feels Holden's ass swallow his cock, and he has to grip Holden’s hips tight and try not to buck into him. Even with the condom on. Christ.

“Fuck—“

Holden makes some sort of low whining noise, burying his face into Bill’s neck, and already they’re more sweaty than Bill after an intense interview, and he reaches around and places a hand against Holden’s lower back.

“You feel— so fucking good—”

It’s different than pussy, and Bill lets his head tilt back as Holden starts to rock his hips forward. Bill is breathing slow, trying not to blow it all at once, and Holden is wrapping his arms around Bill’s neck, leaning over him, slowly sliding himself up and down Bill.

“You know what you’re doing, huh?” Bill looks at him, Holden with his glazed over expression, and bucks his hips upwards. He earns a low sigh from Holden, and Holden leans back as Bill grabs onto both of his hips, fucking up into him. Licking his lips, he notices Holden’s cock bobbing back and forth, unattended to, cum leaking from the tip.

“Maybe.” Holden’s breathless, and Bill likes to hear it that way. Holden reaches out and shakily undoes the buttons on Bill's shirt, yanking off his white undershirt. Bill feels a bit exposed in his undershirt, but considering Holden's completely naked, Bill doesn't think about it any further.

It doesn’t take them much longer, and Bill’s almost gasping as Holden rides him to climax, and Bill watches Holden get himself off, stroking until he comes, his body twitching with Bill’s cock still inside him.

Holden leans forward, dragging some of the mess onto Bill’s lap, and rests his forehead against Bill’s.

Bill reaches up, his hand on the back of Holden’s neck, and without much thought, kisses him.

Holden's panting. “Do you want to stay here for a couple of days?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

Bill’s not sure of how far ahead to think, what to do. He knows Holden might want the company, considering the end result of the Atlanta case.

Both of their returns to home weren’t worth much to celebrate.

This on the other hand? Bill feels a twinge of some sort of happiness.

When Holden moves off him, Bill watches him leave, and smiles at the fact that Holden’s round ass was one of the first things that stood out about him. That, and his egotistical attitude. He had been so smarmy in their first interaction, but Bill had enjoyed it - he still loves to watch Holden run in circles, trying to defend whatever had just said.

Bill washes up in the bathroom and has a quick shower, and he notices when Holden comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth that he’s put on a new set of briefs, and another white tee-shirt. Bill can’t help but raise an eyebrow as he steps out of the shower.

“What? I like pajamas.”

"You don't need to wear them with me around. I think we're past that a bit." Holden shrugs. “Can we?” Bill points to the bedroom and Holden hesitates, still brushing his teeth. “Well, I will then. I’m dead on my feet right now.” There's the sound of toothpaste being spit out from behind him, as he walks into the bedroom toweling off his body.

“No, no, I’ll be there. Just give me a few moments.” The sun’s disappearing fast, and already the room is dim, save for the lights on from the living room.

He takes his time drying off, looking out the window between the blinds to the street. There's a couple walking down the sidewalk, but the neighbourhood activity seems low. After he finds himself dry enough, he hangs the towel back in the bathroom and returns to get under the covers, feeling fatigue heavy on his body.

There’s a soft click and the remaining of the lights go out, followed by Holden entering the bedroom with a playful smile.

“You know, I never thought I’d see Special Agent Tench in my bed. Ever.”

Bill’s not sure what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut, and watches as Holden walks up to his side of the bed and crawls in. Under the sheets, he reaches out for Bill, and Bill makes the adjustment to hold him close.

Bill tries not to think about tomorrow, and what it brings. Neither of them do.


End file.
